Rosalie's Story, The Before Years
by Juliette Tomassino
Summary: What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?
1. Chapter 01: Dark Shadows

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

Rosalie's Story Chapter 1: Dark Shadows

I had been at my best friend Vera's home discussing my upcoming wedding. She had been married for almost two years and was so happy. We discussed every little detail as we watched her 6-month old laugh and play. Her little Henry really was adorable, all smiles and dimples – he was just sitting up on his own. Vera walked me to the door with her baby in her arms and her husband Raymond at her side, his arm around her waist. He kissed her on the cheek when he thought I wasn't looking. That bothered me. When Royce kissed me, it wasn't quite the same – not so sweet somehow. But Royce was my prince, I smiled to myself – soon I would be princess.

I hadn't realized how late it was. The lamps were already on in the streets. It was cold too. Very cold for late April. The wedding was only a week away, and I was worrying about the weather as I hurried home. I hugged my arms to myself as I walked down the empty sidewalk. I had asked my father to escort me home but he had had a long day at work and just wanted to put his feet up. "Make sure you leave Vera's before the sun goes down and you'll be fine," he had said without even looking at me. No one anticipated a spring shower bringing with it grey clouds and dark skies.

"_Look at her. Would you just look at her, Felix? She's all mine." Royce slurred sarcastically as he motioned toward a petite blonde walking toward them._

_Felix whistled as he took his time measuring her up with his eyes. He licked his lips. "She's a looker alright." Felix had to lean against the doorframe so he wouldn't fall down. "What'd you have to go and ask her to marry you for?"_

_"Good ol' dad wouldn't have it any other way." Royce drank from his half-empty bottle. "I've got some plans for her." He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Bank on it." Royce laughed at his own joke. His father owned the bank._

_"Let's scare her" Felix chortled then finished off the contents of the bottle. In a low growl he said "Ro-sie … oh Ro-sie!"_

I was a few streets from my house when I heard them. Two men under a broken streetlamp, laughing too hard. Drunk. I thought I heard my name from the dark shadows. With my hand to my neck I peered at the faceless strangers. There was a threat in the voice that had leered my name

I stayed close to the buildings, trying to appear nonchalant. I thought I heard my name again. My feet were like weights inside my shoes making it impossible for me to move forward or backward. A scream was developing in my throat. If only my father had been willing to escort me home.

"Rosalie? Rosalie!"

_Royce and Felix seamlessly melted into the anonymous darkness._

"Rosalie!

It was Vera's husband. I turned to see him walking toward me in an easy gait.

"A lady should never walk home unescorted." He held his arm out to Rosalie.

"May I attend you safely home?" He said as he bowed deeply.

He was being playful. I exhaled loudly and fought back tears. When I didn't take his arm he looked into my face.

"What's wrong?" He asked alarmed.

I tried to speak but no sound would come out. I pointed to the spot where I had heard the voices. Raymond looked to where I pointed, squinting into the doorway. He started to walk across the street to investigate.

"Raymond, please."

I desperately wanted to get away from this place. I called out to him. "I thought I heard voices ... I'm sure it was nothing." I said as I smoothed out my hair and then my clothing. I held out my hand to him.

Raymond stopped, an equal distance between me and the place where I had heard the voices. He was clearly torn between investigating further and comforting his wife's good friend. Finally he retraced his steps and held his arm out to me.

"Thank you, kind sir, I would love an escort." I said to him.

"Shall we?" He said clearing the distance between us.

I took his arm, shaking off the incident and putting it behind me. We walked quietly. There was something very comforting about walking with Raymond, I felt safe. My mind wandered. Soon I would have someone who loved me like Raymond loved Vera. A smile stretched across my face. I looked at the clouds shrouding the twinkling of the stars. It surely wouldn't rain on my special day.

I exhaled in satisfaction. On _my_ special day everyone in town will watch me walk down the aisle on my father's arm. They will think I'm the most beautiful thing in the world. I lifted my chin a little higher as I thought of the flowery wedding to come, confident the day would be sunny. After all, I was Rosalie Lillian Hale – soon to be Rosalie Hale King.

_Royce and Felix stepped into the moonlight to watch the shapely figure of Rosalie Hale walk away. "What are we going to do with this one, Royce"? The two men paused as they watched her round a corner out of sight. "I hope she's not a screamer like the last one."_

_Royce finished his bottle and smashed it against the ground. "At least I didn't have to marry the last one."_

My head was filled with plans for the biggest event in the history of Rochester. I smiled to myself as I imagined the flowers and the guests and the stares as everyone beheld me on my special day.

I frowned at the thought of my dress. I had a very specific idea for my wedding gown and the seamstress just couldn't seem to get it right. Three times my father had to go in and talk with the woman sewing the garment, just to make sure she really heard the instructions. I couldn't see what was so hard about it. Isn't this her job after all?

I was going in for the final fitting the next morning. My father had assured me the dress would be perfect. I had utmost confidence in him. I was his one and only daughter. He wanted my happiness.

As we continued walking in the silent dusk, I went back to daydreaming of my perfect day. Vera was going to be my matron of honor. She would be wearing a dusty pink dress with an empire waist and buttoned sleeves that came just below her elbow. A slightly darker color pink beading came down in points to the waist of the dress. I had asked her to wear her hair down, with only the front pulled back in a matching pink comb. She would be wearing pink faux pearl earrings and carrying a bouquet of red roses.

My two little brothers would be the ring bearers. They had been fitted for matching tuxedos. They were black, with a white shirt, black bow tie, red cummerbund and shiny black leather shoes. They looked very handsome.

In no time at all we arrived home. Raymond opened the gate and ushered me across its threshold.

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	2. Chapter 02: Preparations

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

Chapter 2: PreparationsThe Dress

I was prepared to be dissatisfied with the finished dress. I mean they couldn't seem to understand simple instructions. The timid women pulled the dress over my head and carefully buttoned the modest but tight fitting bodice. The front was antique lace, painstakingly beaded with jewels and pearls. The lacey sleeves were long, coming down daintily in a point over my wrists. The straight skirt of the dress was exquisite white linen with beads and diamonds dangling from the bodice on shiny thin ribbons. The train was adorned with the matching antique lace and jewels.

The veil, made of white silk tulle, was studded with diamonds. It was made especially for me to complement my blonde hair that would be swept up off my neck, encircling my face with curls.

Try as I might, I couldn't find anything wrong with the dress. I looked radiant. I loved standing on the pedestal in the small sewing room. Multiple mirrors allowed me to see myself from all angles. I was satisfied that no other bride could be as beautiful.

I had specifically banned Royce from coming to the fitting. A groom shouldn't see his beloved in her dress before the big day. Even so, my feelings were hurt because he didn't even offer to take me to the home of the seamstress. Secretly I wanted him to be waiting patiently outside to return me home. My mother took me instead. Oh well, Felix his best man had arrived from Atlanta. I'm sure he was playing the impeccable host.

I was exhausted after the fitting, and feeling out of sorts. I went home and fussed about the refreshments that were to be served in just five short days. I kept remembering the way Royce had looked at me as I outlined my desires to the caterer. Royce kept _saying_ 'whatever she wants', but then he would wave me off.

I didn't care for his attitude so I insisted that we serve fresh fruit, shrimp on toast points, mushrooms stuffed with imported caviar, prime rib, roasted vegetables and individual cheesecakes. It was impetuous of me to insist on the most expensive things, but we were royalty in this community. Our wedding should embody that.

I wanted him to be involved in all the planning, but he would just tighten his jaw and look away. He considered this 'woman's work'. Vera told me Raymond had been the same way. She told me "men don't care about this kind of thing". I supposed she was right, but still I would pout when he looked at me.

_The Cake_

The next morning my mother and I went to visit the bakery where the wedding cake was being made. Royce had accused me of being lavish as I had meticulously drawn out what my dream cake would look like. His mother, Jane, had shushed him whenever he'd say anything. She liked me, I was sure of it. She had only Royce, I would be the daughter she never had. I envisioned shopping trips and celebrity dinner parties when I considered my new family. I was glad she liked me, but then everyone did. Why not her too?

The cake was going to have five layers in graduated sizes. A fitting monument to the King name. The first, third and fifth layers would be chocolate cake rounds and the second and fourth would be squares of vanilla cake. Each would have white frosting covering them, ready for the intricate decorations. Every layer would sport a different color of fondant roses culminating in the final, smallest tier covered with pink roses surrounding a miniature bride and groom.

Why shouldn't I have the cake I had dreamed about? The King's owned the bakery; we could request anything. That's why I knew that the individual cheesecakes I insisited on for the wedding were not nearly as extravagant as Royce had led me to believe. Essentially these people were his employees. He could make them do whatever I wanted. And I wanted a five-tier cake. I would get it. I was sure Jane agreed.

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	3. Chapter 03: Fishing

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 3: Fishing_

Today was going to be busy. My mother and I were reviewing for one last time the flowers and decorations to be used on the grounds of the King estate on the day of my wedding. The lawn on the east side of the palatial homestead was beautifully manicured. Dozens of round tables would be set-up with white tablecloths. The centerpiece would be a floating candle surrounded by pink and red rose petals. The King's servants would be dressed in black and white as they served refreshments to all our guests.

There would hardly be one surface that would not be overflowing with roses of all colors. When Royce began courting me he would send a bouquet of roses every day. I wanted the grounds to be overflowing with them, just as my room had been. I wanted the beginning of our life together to smell as sweet.

Jane, my mother and I spent the day walking the grounds, discussing exact

placement of tables, flowers, and even the servants. I wanted them to be almost invisible to the guests. I wanted them to be single-minded as they hawk-eyed the tables, serving each guest and removing the empty plates quickly. My mother and Jane agreed of course.

I was feeling girlishly giddy as we finished our tour and critique of the grounds. I skipped to where Royce was sitting with Felix and threw my arms around his neck. He grabbed my wrists and forcibly removed them. His hands were so big, he hurt me as he pushed me away.

I stood there, aghast and embarrassed as I rubbed my wrists, his fingerprints still showing white on my skin.

Facing away from his friend he said viciously "you're not going to cry are you?" He had an evil glint in his eye as he stared me down.

"Of course not" I whispered, wide-eyed, as I backed away.

"Run along then, _Rosie_," he said with irritation, that same malevolent edge in his voice.

I turned and walked away. I could hear the caustic chuckle of the best man as I hurried to be out of their line-of-sight.

_Felix watched her run up the stairs. He straightened his lanky legs, and, like a tick, burrowed farther into the chair. He turned to look at Royce and said, "The wedding night won't get here soon enough."_

_Royce got up from his chair and poured them each a drink. He handed a glass to Felix and took a long swig from his own. He sat down and crossed his arms across his chest with satisfaction. "Nope. Not soon enough."_

I ran up the stairs and wrenched the bathroom door open and threw myself inside, locking the door behind me. I was certain no one had seen me, so I knew I had a few minutes to consider his slashing reaction and calm my scattered emotions. I shrunk to the floor, my chest still heaving with fear and anxiety. What had just happened?

I looked at it from all angles. It was my fault of course. I should have never been so familiar with him in front of his friend. It betrayed my meticulous upbringing. He is the patriarch of our new family; I needed to respect his space and his privacy. I finally stopped breathing so heavily, mostly comfortable with my assessment of the situation. I stood up and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was horrified by my addled appearance, red splotches showing on my cheeks and neck. I quickly smoothed my hair and washed my face.

As I dried my face, feeling better and still contemplating my reflection, I noted the angry marks rising up on my wrists. I dropped the towel I was using and stared. Will they have faded by Friday? I tugged at the sleeves of my blouse covering the marks. I stood back, surveyed my appearance and told myself to relax. As I opened the door, I stared myself down, blew out some air, turned out the light and walked down the stairs.

My mother's eyes widened when she saw me. I nervously pulled on the sleeves hoping to conceal my fresh wounds.

"Honey, what is the matter?" she questioned as my foot hit the bottom step. She put a loose strand of hair behind my ears and distastefully surveyed my splotchy skin.

Before I could answer she said, "ah, you're just nervous. Who wouldn't be? You're marrying the most eligible bachelor in New York. You're lucky to get him." She patted my cheek, took my hand and led me out the door.

Her not-so subtle meaning sliced through me. _I_ was lucky to have _him_. I would find no compassion in her eyes. I was now realizing that the extravagant shopping trips and celebrity dinner parties were dancing in my mother's eyes as well.

A memory reared up in my head; the day I first met Royce. My father, who worked at King Bank and Loan, had forgotten his lunch. Mother had me do my hair and wear my best organza dress just to take my father's lunch to him.

I had seen Royce from afar and had certainly heard his name, but was unprepared for how handsome he was. He was well built and stunning in a 3-piece suit. His dark hair curled slightly around his collar. And his smile; his smile stopped me in my tracks. It was obvious I looked equally appealing to him. At the time I had been grateful I was dressed up. He started sending me a bouquet of flowers a day beginning that very day.

My shoulders sagged. What had been a tingling kind of memory, a memory that made me blush when conjured was now tainted. Suddenly it all made sense – the hair, the dress … I had been bait. My parent's fishing expedition had been a success.

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	4. Chapter 04: Beautiful

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 4: Beautiful_

Today I had no responsibility at all except to look pretty. I would spend my time in a beautician's chair. A manicure, pedicure, facial mask and hot oil treatment were in my future. I had to be stunning for the rehearsal dinner tonight. I settled in, my face covered in a warm towel trying to convince myself of just that. My pained internal monologue was made even more difficult as my mother sat beside me, getting the same treatments from a team of women, their services all paid for by the King family fortune.

She nervously talked and talked and talked about the dress, the food, the flowers. I know I saw her glance at my wrists. I had been self-consciously fidgeting with my sleeves all day. As I lay there under the towel, she temporarily quit talking. The reprieve from her babble was glorious. I tried to make myself believe that it was concern I saw on her face as she peeked at my arms. But I knew it was false. She was afraid I'd put an end to the wedding and her dreams of enhanced social standing would break-up along with the engagement. I was trapped.

Ok, I thought, still under the protective mask of the towel, what are my options? I could call it off, I could. It may be 1933, but women were finding jobs and making it on their own. That's what I'd do. I'd call it off and find myself a job. The euphoria of the decision didn't last for long. Where would I live? _How_ would I live? My scant 18 years had taught me little about independence. Indeed, I was trapped.

My only viable option was to go through with it. I felt the warm tears flowing from the corners of my eyes. I was once again grateful for the towel on my face as it would comfortably conceal my show of emotion. I had to do something to take my mind off my dilemma. I thought of Vera. She was happily married. I remembered the sweet kiss on her cheek from her beloved on that night that felt so long ago. Marriage was working for her. I could make marriage work for me too. Although I was still lying down, I squared my shoulders and made myself believe that marrying Royce was the right decision for me. Surely he hadn't really been mad at me; something else had to have been going on.

The towel came off revealing my most dazzling smile. I had momentarily betrayed myself.

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	5. Chapter 05: Presentations

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 5: Presentations_

It was time to get dressed for the rehearsal dinner.

Royce's favorite color is dark blue. My mother and I had selected a beautifully fitted royal blue, bias cut, floor length gown. It had a slightly provocative v-neckline and fitted sleeves adorned with tiny silver buttons ending at my wrists. As I adjusted the buttons I was grateful we had selected a dress with long sleeves. There was a stark white two-inch ribbon at the waist that was tied into an unobtrusive bow at the end of the v-cut that showed off most of my back. It drew attention to my tiny waist and my shapely hips.

My shoes were the same color. We'd had them dyed to perfectly match the gown. I remembered the fit I had thrown when I was initially told it could not be done in time for the dinner party. My father took the man aside and said something I could not hear, clearly convincing the man that it _would be_ done. As I slipped them on, I had a strange sensation. I absolutely loved my reflection; I was truly stunning. But it was somehow marred by the many tantrums I had thrown to get my way. This ambivalent feeling was something I had never experienced before.

I looked in the mirror. But I looked past myself. What was happening to me? This was a match made in heaven, isn't that what my mom had been trying to say – just yesterday? I realized I was fidgeting with the sleeves again. I sent a biting look at the mirror.

"Stop it!" I nearly screamed out loud at the girl in the mirror.

"Stop it! This is the best you can expect of life." The angry face almost suited me. It was as if there was two of me.

When my mother walked into the room I concealed my anger revealing the beautiful Rose reflected in the mirror. I was taken with the face I saw.

"Smile more" my mother demanded as she hastily retied the bow at my back.

"You look so pretty when you smile."

As I stepped out of the room her unstated message rang in my mind 'keep that smile on your face, don't blow this now.'

_Royce put on the jacket to his tuxedo and admired his reflection in the mirror. "Too bad she and I won't be together for long. She'd look good dangling from my arm."_

_Felix greased his hair back. "Anything good on the menu tonight?" he looked at Royce's reflection as he punctuated the word 'good'._

_"Best behaviors tonight, pal, the town is watching." Royce responded._

_Felix removed a flask from his pocket and took a good, long drink. "Want me to scare her – get her rattled at this ridiculous public display."_

_"You do what you do and I'll do what I do." Royce reached for the door and walked out to wait at the stairs for his bride-to-be._

Pomp and circumstance was a part of everything the King's did. And promptness was expected. At the appointed moment I appeared at the top of the stairs. My knight in shining armor stood on the bottom step. His smile was breathtaking as he held his hand out to me, one foot moving up the stairs. He was wearing a black tuxedo with a white shirt, and a scarf that matched my dress exactly. His eyes were shining. I got lost in them – he _was_ in love with me! I knew it! These strange feelings were simply nerves! It was just cold feet. His devastating smile washed all my fears away. I stretched out my hand to his as I gracefully walked down the stairs.

Every eye was on me! I did not disappoint. Royce was finally able to take my eager fingers as I met him at the bottom stair. He lovingly pulled me to him. I reddened as he brushed his lips on my warmed cheek. I looked up at him through my lashes. His eyes adored me. He put his arm around me and escorted me to the dinner table. We walked past all the guests who were clapping for us.

As he seated me, I heard a voice crawl in my ear that seductively drawled "Rosie". I froze.

The cluster of men.

A broken streetlamp.

My name from the dark shadows.

What had I done? This marriage would damn my soul. My euphoria rained out of my eyes. Members of the wedding party thought only that I was moved by my "sweetheart's" loving embrace. I felt Royce's hand hard on my naked back as he pushed in the chair, violence oozing from his false smile. I wanted to scream.

I made it through dinner. I had no choice. Royce had a death-grip on my small hand throughout most of the meal. Every now and again, he would let my hand free, as he would animatedly regale the guests with one of his stories. I would move my hands under the table and gratefully flex my fingers, knowing his hand would wrap itself around mine soon enough.

The voice behind the drawl was Felix who was seated right next to Royce. His black hair was slicked back and he had a moustache, somehow making him look even more lewd. Every now and again he would chuckle as he noted the way Royce was gripping my hand. His eyes were small and I didn't like the way they looked at me. I felt so exposed by the way his eyes roamed up and down me, like I was a menu item that could be prepared to his liking. He absentmindedly licked his lips and I realized what he was imagining. His stare pierced through me.

He saw the fear.

And he liked it.

My plastered smile fooled everyone. How could I not have seen before this very moment just how superficial these people really were? How could I not recognize just how superficial I was? This too-late observation would not help me now. I was getting married tomorrow, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

When dinner was over, the charade renewed itself. Royce graciously pulled back my chair, gently taking my hand, helping me to my feet. He walked me to my parents; they were positively brimming with visions of their entitled life that was 24 short hours away. I hated them.

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	6. Chapter 06: Trapped

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 6: Trapped_

The day of the wedding was more beautiful than even I could have imagined. Not a drop of rain, just as I had predicted. Every rose in the city was adorning the grounds of the King Estate – my new home. Despite the beauty of the flowers, I knew that the only Rose people would be looking at would be me. My dress was spectacular and emphasized my slender figure.

I even wore real pearl earrings, a gift from my new mother-in-law. When she gave them to me I sputtered in gratitude, awed by the expense, imagining some sort of relationship in the offering. I now knew it was all a farce. She couldn't have me wearing fake pearls as I had planned, naively believing no one would notice. Oh no. How would that look to the self-righteous, judgmental high society types in her circle? The family name was all she had going for her. She couldn't afford any mistakes now.

Again, this self-realization wouldn't help me.

I would be saying 'I do' and promising myself to Royce for the rest of my life. A life filled with fear and emotional _and_ physical pain. This situation could break me. When I looked into Royce's eyes, I knew that was what he wanted. He didn't want a spirited 'thinker' for his bride, he wanted a subservient little girl who would do whatever he said, who would be the beautiful ornament hanging on his arm as he completed all his societal obligations.

I also saw a hunger in his eyes that I had never noticed before. Maybe I did notice it, but I didn't recognize it for what it was. Royce also wanted this body. For the first time in my life I detested my beauty; I was disgusted by it. I'd spent my 18 years taking advantage of my looks without knowing it; I was even encouraged to do it. And others had benefited from my beauty as well. I hated my parents even more.

And as hatred begets hatred, Felix' leering 'Rosie' sounded in my ears again. What had been the plan that Monday night when I first heard and felt that threat? I shuddered. What did my future hold? I would be alone with Royce. He could 'arrange' anything he wanted.

Whatever my plan, I knew I had to carry through with the wedding. I needed time to think. I knew I would need strength that I feared I did not possess to survive before I could make myself free. I had to be practical. I would need money. I would need to figure out a way to disappear. And I would have to decide where to go.

I went through the motions. This was supposed to be the most beautiful day of my life. This was a day I had dreamed about as I doodled "Mrs. Royce King" on every scrap of paper I could find.

If there's one thing you can say about me, it's that you can take me anywhere. I knew what I was supposed to do and how I was supposed to act. I knew when to wear the smile, however fake it may feel. The photographers would never capture a sullen bride. No, our faces would plaster the morning newspaper and all reading the articles would know I was the happiest woman on earth; the lucky young lady who captured the heart – and fortune - of Royce King.

Money was suddenly poison to me. I had been raised to worship money - and status. I was about to marry into both, but at what price? A price I was no longer willing to pay. Still, I would have to bide my time.

Despite my determination to change my fate, the sheer beauty of the grounds took my breath way. This was all for _me_. Perhaps I was being hasty. Royce _had_ looked at me with adoring eyes just last night. As I pondered, I unconsciously fingered the lace around my wrists, an effort to conceal the purple and blue finger-shaped bruises. What was I saying to myself? Was I trying to make myself believe that abuse was worth all this? Maybe that's why Jane's eyes appeared dead to me now. She'd sold her soul to the devil, and she'd done it willingly.

It was hard to think. I put on my dress then stood on a pedestal as my mother, Jane and Vera bustled around me, adjusting my dress, applying make-up, arranging the veil, and teasing my hair. This was the kind of attention a person who looked like me expected. I easily fell back into believing I was the center of the universe, as I had always been. It was so much easier to think of myself like that, it's all I had known.

And I _was_ beautiful. The anxiety returned, why hadn't my mother said _he_ was lucky to have _me_? The answer was so plain. I was a shiny bauble, nothing more.

_Time to put on the damn suit again. Royce's contrived but even temper was beginning to thin. He'd had it with all this fuss. He tried to put on a diamond-studded cufflink but kept dropping it. In exasperation he threw it across the room just as Felix walked in. He caught it, one-handed. He laughed at his friend as he shut the door behind him._

_"Hold it together."_

_Royce held out his arm for Felix to put on the cufflink. He slipped it in the button- hole and attached the back. He retrieved the jacket and held it out for him. Royce slid into it and stood in front of the mirror again, adjusting his tie._

_"What am I? Your butler or your best man?"_

_Royce rounded on Felix with a fixed icy stare. He edged toward Felix, never breaking his gaze, willing Felix to blink first. Then he stepped back satisfied and turned to face his alter-ego in the mirror._

_It took a lot to get to Felix, but the wild look about Royce made Felix swallow hard. Royce smoothed his ruffled hair and jacket. When he turned around to face Felix again, the smile was back, but the white-hot malice behind the eyes said 'stay out of my way'._

_Felix adjusted Royce's tie. Unwilling to turn his back on Royce in this state, he backed up to the door and opened it. Regally he bowed deeply and said with a hint of sarcasm "after you, Mr. King". Royce checked the time on his pocket watch, cleared his throat, and walked through the door._

I peeked out onto the grounds. All of society's richest and most well known were assembled. They were here out of sheer obligation and not because they were particularly fond of me - or the King's for that matter. They came because the _cameras_ would be here. This was the biggest event of the year. They were essentially forced to attend as well as provide an expensive gift. Meaningless, empty offerings. A hollow chortle escaped my lips. Ironic. They were as trapped as I was.

And there was my Prince. Oh he was putting on a show today; he was in rare form. He was glad-handing all of Rochester's finest, laughing, joking, promising business deals. Occasionally he would point to the bride's chamber and put his hand to his heart, explaining that he couldn't wait to see the love of his life on this most joyous of all days. And the people bought it. Of course they did. They'd shoveled the same manure for years. It was what they knew.

At the precise hour, a full orchestra started playing "Here Comes the Bride". I stayed to the rear of the room. My two brothers went out first, carrying rings on posh velvet pillows. Vera was escorted by her dear husband. My mother was then accompanied by Felix of all people. Fitting. And Jane was attended by my father-in-law to be. I was next. My eyelids fluttered as I talked myself into taking that first step. I put on my best counterfeit smile and stepped into the sun, light refracting off the jewels and diamonds on my gown and veil. There was an audible gasp from the audience as they took in my classic beauty. It was no surprise to me of course; I'd heard those sounds all my life.

Royce, who was already standing at the altar, gasped also – and at the proper time – he had to keep up appearances, didn't he? He smiled exquisitely as he watched me take my father's arm. My father had tears in his eyes. No doubt sparkling with the wealth that would vicariously be his. It took everything I had not to shrink away from him. He walked me to where Royce stood, playing the part of proud father perfectly.

Royce held out his hand.

I had to be honest. He was every bit as beautiful as I. The very expensive tuxedo befitted him. From the outside we were a smart-match. People were no doubt thinking what beautiful children would come from this union.

Children.

That almost wiped the phony smile away. Though I had always wanted to be a mother, I decided at that precise moment - no children would be born to this life. No child of mine would be made to endure such a hostile and entitled childhood. Create another Royce? I would rather die.

My father kissed my cheek and went to sit with my mother.

I only barely participated in the ceremony. The minister was talking to us, imparting advice and encouraging us to love and respect each other always. I watched Royce. Was he hearing any of these words of wisdom? I longed for a man that would treat me with respect, who would love me forever. It was not to be. I turned my head and looked at the flowers on the grounds. I smiled sadly. The flowers were so beautiful. But they would wilt and die by tomorrow. Was that my plight as well?

My disinterest in the ceremony was more apparent than I had intended. Royce gave my hand an unnecessarily hard squeeze to draw me out of my reverie. I wondered what was behind his eyes. Was he afraid I had figured him out? Was he afraid that I was stronger than initially assumed? I smiled at him, lovingly. Everyone in the audience saw the smile they wanted to see, but Royce saw the indifference. Anger tainted his baby blues and I knew I would pay for my overt insolence. I didn't care. I was going to pay anyway; I may as well make the fee worthwhile.

I was derailed when I heard the chuckle. A twinge of fear slithered down my spine and Royce almost laughed out loud when he saw it. I would pay, wouldn't I? My heart thudded with panic. His hands were so big.

As I hadn't heard a word the purchased minister had said, the sudden silence took me by surprise. Everyone was looking at me expectantly. I had to rewind to see where we were in the ceremony.

I recovered quickly, averting my eyes and bashfully saying "I do" as I looked into my tormenters eyes. The crowd smiled out loud.

I heard my mother nervously and a little too loudly exclaim "she's just SO nervous!" The disinterested crowd accepted the feeble explanation.

Royce put his lips to mine and kissed me tenderly. Against my will, my knees weakened. He had to quickly put his arm around my waist to prevent me from falling. Of course that further punctuated my mother's comment. My new beau made me weak in the knees. Royce loved that. Felix snorted behind us.

I hadn't realized how close Felix was. He pushed himself against my back. I could feel the buckle of his belt through my wedding gown. I was certain this motion was a terrifying foreshadowing of my wedding night. I let out a gasp. Royce put his lips to my ear in a gesture of adoration.

"You. Just. Wait." I heard the ferocity in his whisper as he enunciated each word separately. He kissed my cheek and turned for the camera.

Felix leered. I could feel his warm breath on my neck as he growled "Yes Rosie. Just. You. Wait." The photographer aimed and shot the first photo of the 'happy' couple.

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	7. Chapter 7: Performances

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**Thanks to Lily Moonlight, LordXeentheGreat, Moody Grouch and GothCatholic for your reviews!**_

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

Chapter 7: Performances

I was seated at a table with my parents, Royce's parents, and Vera and her husband. I watched Vera with unconcealed jealousy. Her husband was not an overly handsome man. Not the kind of man you would pick from a crowd or who would garner a second glance. But I was glancing now. He adored Vera. You could see it as he kept his arm around her protectively, or when he stole a kiss, or took her hand. And she was so happy! They would never have the money or status I now had, but their life would be infinitely more satisfying. Fresh tears erupted and my stomach turned.

Vera was watching me too. I hadn't noticed.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked with genuine concern in her voice.

I couldn't tell her. She had been a true friend to me all my life, and I had taken that for granted too. I may have even used her along the line because I thought I looked so much more beautiful standing next to her. But I could now see hers was a deep and quiet beauty. She would be beautiful even when she was 90. And loved. Raymond's love was not dependent on appearance. I grimaced.

"Nothing is wrong … I'm just nervous." I whispered.

I eyed Royce who was speaking with Felix in a corner. No doubt plotting. I managed a smile. Vera looked into my eyes for a very long time.

"Are you sure? You seem … not yourself."

She was right. I felt like I'd aged a decade since that Monday night I jabbered about my wedding plans only five short days ago. The egotistical Rose was gone now. I was fractured, no longer whole. I didn't recognize myself.

But I knew I had to play my role, with everyone, even Vera who knew me better than anyone else. I spoke softly so only she could hear. It also helped shroud the catch in my throat.

"It'll be the wedding night soon … my hands are so shaky, Vera, I don't know … " I let the words trail.

She smiled timidly as she comprehended my pretended meaning. She put her arm around my neck and spoke in an even more hushed tone.

"I was nervous too" she giggled "but Royce will be good to you, Rosalie, he would never hurt you."

I hugged her. I fought tears and steeled my nerves. I knew this next performance might be the most difficult. We pulled away and I smiled demurely.

"I know. You saw how weak I got today from just his kiss."

She patted my hand supportively. I was again grateful for the long sleeves.

_Royce and Felix _were_ plotting. The torment would continue. When it was time to retrieve the garter, he would reach way up her leg. He knew it would make her embarrassed and uncomfortable. He even knew it would make both sets of parents uncomfortable. He didn't care. She was his now, he could do whatever he wanted._

_After the pretenses had all been tended to, they would fly to the Grand Canyon and stay at a secluded hotel on the South Rim. All arrangements had been made by one of the mindless employees at the Bank. They would catch a Boeing B247 in New York. They would have to make several stops along the way, but it was the most efficient and certainly the most prestigious way to travel. Money was a beautiful thing._

_When they arrived at the Grand Canyon airport, one of his father's flunkies would be waiting with a car. He had left the rest of the plans vague to everyone, insinuating a quiet and private stay. No one even questioned similar plans made for Felix._

_Occasionally they would look over at Rose, quietly speaking with her friend Vera. She had no idea what was coming._

I thought the ordeal was over. The orchestra was winding down, we had cut the cake, thrown the bouquet and, despite my discomfort, Royce had reached way up my leg to retrieve the garter. He put it in his teeth for a brief moment and then threw it into the crowd. Of course Felix caught it; Royce had aimed it at him. My eyes betrayed me. My mother actually "saw" things clearly for a moment. Could I catch her eye and plead silently to save me? But as quickly as the lurid thought crossed her mind, it was gone, replaced by dollar signs no doubt. I was bought and paid for after all.

With all the wedding folklore attended too, I thought the make-believe was over. Not quite. Royce, ever looking for the spotlight, athletically hopped onto the altar and asked for everyone's attention.

With his most magnificent smile he put one hand out to me "Rosalie Hale King …" he smiled and raised his eyebrows as he mugged for the crowd "… would you join me on this altar one last time?"

He dazzled us all. I had no choice. I faked up again and allowed him to lift me to the stage. I managed a credible swoon that even Vera believed.

Royce put his arm around me, kissed me on the lips, and turned to the crowd again.

"Would you believe," he bellowed, "that my dear wife has not even asked about the honeymoon? My sweet, innocent wife did not seem to know that a grand trip was in her future!"

He eyed the crowd, invoking claps and jeers, Felix playing it up most eagerly.

"Well, my bride and I will be spending a week at the Grand Canyon; a beautiful _and_ secluded destination. How romantic!"

I was shocked. He was right; a honeymoon destination _had_ never crossed my mind.

The Grand Canyon. The blood drained to my feet. I had to get away. I had to get away now! I hadn't packed for a honeymoon. I'd tell mother and father that I had to go pack then I would disappear. Yes. That was my only chance. I had to disappear.

Royce swung me up in his arms "Rosalie, I will love you until you die!"

He kissed me and with feigned affection I kissed him back, 'until you die' repeating in my mind. I was flushed with embarrassment at this public display as he set me back on my feet. He jumped off the stage and lifted his face to mine.

"Join me, Rosalie King?" He begged, already knowing I had no choice. I bent toward him and he easily lifted me into his arms and carried me to the mansion.

We passed my parents. They were crying and clapping. Of course. They'd married their daughter off to the most handsome and rich man in the area. They would reap this benefit for years to come. We also passed Felix. He licked his lips again as his eyes wandered over my body, helpless in Royce's arms. I went limp.

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	8. Chapter 8: Possibilities

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**Thanks to Lily Moonlight, LordXeentheGreat, Moody Grouch, GothCatholic and Russia () for your reviews!**_

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 8: Possibilities_

My mind was in high gear. None of my things were here. I would have to go home to get toiletries and enough clothing for a week away. Maybe I _could_ just disappear. That sounded like a viable and painless solution to me. But, my mother was in on the conspiracy. She had already packed a bag for me.

My entourage soon returned to help me and the fussing ensued. When the veil was off and the buttons of the dress were finally undone my attendants turned their backs so I could dress. I was grateful, that way I could shimmy into my clothes without anyone seeing my wrists.

My mom had laid out a brand new, feminine, two-piece pantsuit with a cardigan with brass buttons and a simple blouse. Its hues were warm browns and greens. The pattern and expensive fabric screamed designer-wear. No doubt part of the fee for marrying the beautiful Rosalie. The stylish but practical shoes matched the green of the sweater perfectly.

As I hadn't known a trip was planned, I hadn't determined what I would do with my hair. It was already up, curls softly cascading around my face. I left it like that, mostly because I didn't really care. My mom thrust the suitcase in my hands and practically pushed me out the door. I couldn't imagine why she was in such a hurry.

As I walked out of the room, the realization cut me in half. It was like a joke and I was the punchline. The entire wedding party was waiting in the foyer of the grand King estate. Every bit of blood rushed to my cheeks, my eyes wounded with embarrassment. The men were smirking and elbowing Royce, wishing they were in his place. My desire to flee took over as I turned to go back in the room. But my mother had already closed the door, her expression almost daring me to try to get past her. I vowed to never speak to her again.

I still had the shocked look on my face as I met Vera's gaze. Her countenance mirrored mine. To the both of us, this gathering of the guests seemed an unnatural and very public send off. She was horrified. We locked eyes. In that prolonged moment I was able to convey everything. I let her know I always loved her - and that there would be no happy ending.

There was nothing either of us could do, I turned, donning my fake smile, and, like a courtesan, daintily walked down the stairs. Royce was waiting; unable to hide his glee in seeing me so rattled. But when he turned to the crowd, he had mustered a bit of a blush himself. I was repelled at his ability to turn emotions on and off at will. His parents were beaming. He had passed the test; a test engineered by parents of 'proper breeding'. They would rest assured the family fortune would be safe with him and his new pretty bride.

We walked out onto the quiet grounds alone. I thought I couldn't wait to get out of that raucous room, but now I was alone with Royce, facing the unknown. I realized just how imagined my bluster had been. Royce could kill me with very little effort. I was sure of that. And if he had help, it would take only seconds. A quick end would be compassionate; I knew I couldn't hope for that.

Neither of us could be sure we weren't still being watched, so he kept up his impeccable charm.

He bent into a deep bow in front of me, "your chariot – or should I say 1931 Cadillac V8 – nothing is too good for my _Rosie_." His tone soured as he spoke my name. He reached for my hand.

I was weighing my options. Did I _really_ have to get in the car? Then I heard a dark chuckle rooting me in my spot.

"Ah Rose" Royce cooed, "shall I carry you?"

My lack of motion answered the question. Again with ease, he lifted me off my feet and with mock tenderness placed me in the car and shut the door. He then turned and waved at the house as he moved to his side of the car. I was certain I heard cheers echoing from the well-lit manor.

"Farewell" I murmured under my breath with finality. I laid my head back and closed my eyes as the car rumbled to life.

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	9. Chapter 9: Travel

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 9: Travel_

After several hours we finally landed in Arizona. None of the other passengers seemed to notice my distress or consider how odd it was for one woman and two men to be traveling together. But maybe it wasn't odd at all; perhaps it only felt that way to me.

We transferred our luggage to a waiting vehicle. An official-looking younger man in a black suit tailored to fit a chiseled physique was standing by the car. His gloved hands were crossed in front of him and he wore a pair of Foster Grant sunglasses. He was wearing a name-tag that said only 'Benton'. I am certain the other passengers regarded us as celebrity as they gawked at the shiny black car waiting for us. Royce is all about pretense.

Royce and Felix got into the back seat as the man in black opened the front passenger door for me. He then ran to the driver's side to get in and take us to our destination. For reasons unknown I felt safe with this stranger in the car with us. Even though he never looked at me or even regarded my presence I felt like Royce and Felix were somewhat stymied with a fourth party in the picture. I should have known there was a plan.

Benton looked in the rear view mirror. "Sir, I have been told to take you to dinner and then leave the vehicle with you. Is this correct?"

My shoulders slumped visibly. This went unnoticed by the very mechanical man in black. Felix noticed. He chortled from the seat directly behind me and my blood ran cold.

"That is correct my good man." Royce said taunting the man with his voice. "Where do you suggest we eat?"

If Benton even noticed Royce's disdain it did not register on him. "The Great Grand is a very good steak house."

"That would be fine."

The rest of the too-short trip was in total silence.

The man pulled up to the restaurant with the words 'Great Grand' emblazoned in script on the side of the building. Though it had the look of a log cabin, the valet service, the austere posts and entry as well as hundreds of suspended bright lights suggested a much more elegant setting. Benton closed the car door behind me and accepted the overly generous tip from Royce. Benton would remember the tip; he would never remember the faceless young woman in the front seat. Royce was diabolical.

We entered the building. It was a large dining room with maybe a dozen round tables sporting crisp white tablecloths with fine china, silver settings, and blood red roses as the centerpiece. Hysterical laughter developed in my throat as I looked at the flowers. A blood red rose on a virginal white cloth. The irony was horrifying.

With a flourish Royce took my jacket and genteelly put his hand on my elbow delicately leading me to our table. The Royce that could have been. The Royce that should have been. The man that was so sweetly handling me right now was only a façade. He was playing. And he was good at this game.

The other diners literally stared at us as we moved to our table. They saw a beautiful young woman being doted upon by an equally handsome young man. Their eyes swept our fingers searching for wedding bands. Simultaneously, or so it felt, you saw them react as they surmised they were viewing a lovely young couple beginning their lives together. I wonder what they thought of Felix. Bodyguard perhaps?

Soon the other guests were bored with the newcomers. They returned to their plates and their mindless chatter. Royce seated me first. As he gently pushed in my chair he clamped a hand down on my shoulder. I tried not to grimace. Felix liked it a little too much. Royce leaned into my neck. If anyone were still watching, I'm sure they were remembering their own wedding and the passion that followed.

But Royce wasn't being romantic. His warm breath caressed goose bumps from my skin that then slithered down my back. He gently tipped my chin up and leaned in for a kiss. Instead he whispered "just a little longer … before you get what's coming to you." He took my hand then kissed the hollow of my neck.

While still holding my hand, Royce seated himself as a sommelier appeared at the table. He quickly appraised the setting and made the assumption he was supposed to make. He looked at Royce as he began his memorized spiel. Royce put his well-manicured hand up to stop his speech. The sommelier looked at him expectantly. "Champagne please, a Brut rosé for my Rosie." Royce looked at me with feigned adoration. The man acknowledged the excellent choice then said simply "We serve only the best, Bruno Paillard Brut Rosé". He bowed to Royce and backed away from the table.

Royce continued to hold my hand. He engaged in lighthearted and superfluous conversation with Felix as we waited for our champagne. He was slowly applying pressure as he squeezed my fingers. I vowed I would not wince or register any discomfort. But long minutes passed before a waiter finally came and offered up a menu. Gratefully Royce cannot engage a person in conversation without using his hands. He let my fingers go as he turned on the charm. Under the cover of the tablecloth I rubbed my fingers. I purposely dropped my napkin. After I picked it up I ever so unobtrusively readjusted my chair, moving away from Royce. This did not go unnoticed by either of them.

After the meals had been ordered and the waiter walked away, Royce, keeping up the show, elegantly turned toward me. His face was hard. Without uttering one single word, I got the message. I started to breathe heavily and my heart beat furiously as his message was clearly conveyed. I felt the blood draining from my face, no doubt leaving angry splotches on my neck and cheeks.

His bitter gaze was cutting through me when the sommelier returned with the champagne. Royce turned toward the man with a smile on his face. With an impressive flourish the man uncorked the bottle and the sparkling liquid bubbled only to the top of the neck. He then poured a small amount into a metal container and tasted the liquid. It was obviously to his liking. He poured the champagne into our individual glasses, serving me first. I was still breathing heavily as the glass was placed before me. I was gulping in air as if there wasn't enough oxygen to sustain me.

Maybe I just knew that I wouldn't be breathing for much longer.

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	10. Chapter 10: Confusion

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**Thanks to Lily Moonlight, LordXeentheGreat, Moody Grouch and GothCatholic for your reviews!**_

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 10: Confusion_

We stood in the chilly night air as we waited for the valet to return our vehicle. I clutched at my jacket unable to draw any warmth from it. When the car arrived, a young man in a uniform opened the door for me as Royce seated himself behind the wheel. I looked forlornly at the boy, who put his hand out to me for support.

I looked at him with vacant eyes. He was alarmed, _I saw it_. I implored him urgently without words. He was rigid as he stared back, clearly wondering what he should do. Suddenly Felix came up behind the boy. He forced a bill in the boy's hand as he muscled his way to the door. He grabbed me at my armpit and shoved me into the car. As we drove away, the boy was in the exact position as he watched our retreat. My last hope disappeared in the rear-view mirror as his reflection faded away. I closed my eyes, my soul gaunt with hopelessness.

It was impossible that I had fallen asleep. Perhaps my mind was just protecting itself from what it knew awaited me. I woke to an uncomfortable and constant jabbing to my upper left arm. I instinctively reached to the now sore spot. A lightening fast hand grabbed my fingers and crushed.

"Wake up, little Rosalie … "

I shifted away from the hurtful words and realized I was still in the car. The multiple taxi trips to catch several different planes, the restaurant, champagne and dinner now whirled through my head. I was suddenly wide-awake and stiff all over. Wildly I turned to look out the window. It was dark. I was aware only of trees swaying in a chilly wind. I heard the now familiar dark chuckle from behind me.

I slumped in my seat. My head spun as if I had a hangover, even though I had never experienced one in my life. I had sipped at the champagne, but I had not consumed very much. I had no stomach for any of it. Royce did. And when the champagne was gone he had ordered a bottle of Ardbeg single malt whiskey. Royce and Felix finished the bottle together.

Felix chuckled again and I recoiled. He liked that I responded to the sound of his voice, even if it was to shrink away from it.

The car door jerked open roughly, tumbling me out into the cold. I barely recovered myself, disjointedly landing on my hands and knees. Royce and Felix laughed acidly. I was terrified now. What were they up too? Where was I, really? Would I be able to acclimate my eyes to the night? Would I be able to see a way out of this deathly predicament?

I stayed on the ground. They misread my paralyzing fear for pride and soon strong arms effortlessly forced me to a standing position. They shined a flashlight in my face. I turned and put my hands in front of me, protecting my eyes from the brightness.

"She's just scared, Royce" Felix drawled, excitement tainting his feigned concern.

I could make out only his silhouette. Funny that I hadn't noticed the pug nose in the light. He really was an unattractive man. I tried to suppress a laugh, imagining that's why he had to force himself on a woman. This did not go over well.

Out of nowhere, the strength of his closed fist took my legs out from under me, unwillingly weak in the knees again. I grabbed at the car for support but hit the ground hard. I had never felt anything like that in my sheltered world. I put my hand gingerly to my face, expecting to find blood, and then I felt the pain. It felt like my eye had exploded. I whimpered from the hurt. I tried to stand but I was dizzy and my vision was blurry. I faded and fell to my side, unconscious.

When I woke this time it was early dawn. My thoughts scrambled for coherency. Where was I again? Why did my face hurt? Recognition dawned with the morning sun. The warmth felt good on my skin.

"Don't move!" I screamed inside my head.

I tried to settle my aching body and called all my senses into service. Was escape an option? Where were they? I could hear muffled voices so they were very close, perhaps in the car. Could I noiselessly crawl into the trees that seemed to be surrounding me? Was escape a possibility?

_Royce was amused._

"_Look Felix, she thinks she's fooling us."_

_Felix didn't answer. He was studying Rosalie. He was tired of Royce's games. He wanted her. He wanted her now. Royce recognized the look on Felix' face. He'd seen it before. Royce took a long hearty gulp of whiskey then handed the bottle to Felix. He took a long drag then set the bottle on the hood of the car._

_They advanced on the small frame of Rosalie._

My lack of movement hadn't fooled them. Their chatter had gotten louder. They were drinking again. I could smell it. When I finally relented and opened my eyes, they were standing over me.

"Looks like she's waking up" Felix slurred.

"What did I tell you, Felix", Royce crowed grabbing my arm and lifting me to my feet. "Isn't she lovelier than any of your Georgia peaches?" He looked at me again, like I was a horse he was buying.

"It's hard to tell," he drawled slowly. "She's all covered up."

Suddenly Royce roughly pulled at the jacket the brass buttons flying off. They scattered in the dirt.

"Show him what you look like, Rose!"

I tried to run. Maybe I could make it to the trees. Before I covered any distance at all, Felix laughed again and grabbed me by the hair, wrenching some from the roots. I cried out in pain. They seemed to enjoy that – the sound of my pain …

They left me lying fetal in the dirt. For a brief moment Royce lingered. I knew it was him because I could hear the chilling chuckle coming from the car. I thought maybe he was feeling sad or sorry. But then he laughed and finished off the rest of the bottle. He threw it down hard and it shattered next to my crumpled body. As they drove away Felix teased that Royce would need to find a new bride. Their jeers trailed off with the sound of the retreating car motor.

I waited to die. It was cold, though there was so much pain that I was surprised it bothered me. It started to rain, and I wondered why I wasn't dying. I was impatient for death to come, to end the pain. It was taking so long … I let my eyes close wishing for sweet death.

_**I stole a few lines right from Stephanie Meyer in this chapter. If any of you have read the books as often as I have, you'll probably recognize them. Thanks Stephanie!**_

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	11. Chapter 11: Thirsty

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**Thanks to Lily Moonlight, LordXeentheGreat, Moody Grouch and GothCatholic for your reviews!**_

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 11: Thirsty_

Had I died? No, a man was carrying me, but I wasn't afraid so it couldn't be Royce or Felix. It felt like I was flying. I was confused. The pain had definitely not stopped; I couldn't be dead. When I finally roused, I found myself in a bright, warm room. Gratefully the pain began to dull. And then something sharp was cutting me - my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock, thinking he'd brought me here to hurt me more.

The fire started burning through me, and I didn't care about anything else. I begged him to kill me. A kind stranger held my hand and said he was sorry, promising that it would end. I screamed a lot. He apologized each time. Sleep finally rescued me.

When I woke the pain was gone, but I was so _thirsty_, no I was _ravenously thirsty_. The kind stranger, Carlisle, was still sitting with me. He explained what had happened; explained what I had become. I shook my head at the memory. No. No! I tried to escape the bright room and shake the pain loose. Of course I knew he was right. My 'husband' had meant to murder me. That betrayal was far greater than the pain of my rebirth.

I crumbled into the corner of the room and cried … tearlessly. I knew I could never go back. I had already detached myself from my parents. I didn't even hate them. I 'nothing-ed' them. I would miss my brothers and I would miss Vera. Vera, her Raymond, her sweet little Henry. But they were the only ones. I think Vera would know I came to an unhappy end. I hoped she wouldn't push too hard to solve the mystery of my disappearance - that she'd allow herself to believe whatever Royce's lies might be. I wanted her to raise her baby boy and live happily ever after with her Raymond. That thought made me smile.

I sat in the corner for a long time. A long time. Days maybe. This new body was so thirsty, but my overload of emotions – and vengeance – was a hunger that surpassed the aching need my dry mouth and throat craved. I would make them pay. This still breathtakingly beautiful body was strong. _I_ was strong! Royce's big hands could never hurt me again.

I went after Felix first.

I admit, I played with him. I followed him every night. I would let him see me, but only peripherally. I would ghost past him, almost stroking his cheek. At first he dismissed the sightings, blaming it on the alcohol. But when he continued to see me, he became frightened and twitchy.

I started to airily whisper "You. Just. Wait." as I'd breeze past him, almost a figment of his imagination.

After the fourth day of taunting, he started to scream as he ran down the dark street, a wild look in his eye. He turned into an alley. I grabbed him from behind and pushed into his back.

"Ro-sie" I sung into his ear. "Remember me?"

I let him turn and look at me. This time _I_ enjoyed the pain twisting _his_ face.

And then … I finished him.

Probably too fast.

I did not satiate this body's thirst. I did not want any more of him in me. I left his body in plain sight. I wanted him to be found. I wanted Royce to hear about it. I wanted him to wonder. I wanted him to be afraid.

Once I knew Royce had heard about his friend's violent end, I began my cat and mouse game with him. I knew what would make it even more blood-curdlingly delicious. I took advantage of my stealth and climbed into the bedroom window of my childhood home. I opened the closet door. It was there. I knew my mother would keep it, in her fake show of grief at her loss. I'm sure she was exacting a financial pound of flesh from the King estate.

My dress was neatly preserved and hanging in my closet. I regarded it indifferently allowing my mind to wander to the day I had the final fitting for the gown. Instead of seeing the beauty of the garment, I thoroughly inspected it for the express purpose of finding a flaw. I was almost disappointed that it was perfect.

I slipped the gown on soundlessly. I stood in front of long mirrors, admiring my expensive beauty. I regarded my reflection. Despite the eyes, I was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

As hoped, Royce had heard of Felix' death. He definitely understood his life was in peril. I hoped the fear and anticipation would make the end worse for him. I think it worked. He was hiding inside a windowless room behind a door as thick as a bank vault's, jittery with fear. The room was guarded by armed men. I felt guilty killing the guards, but I made it swift and painless. It wasn't their fault they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Royce was not so lucky.

I was overly theatrical. It was kind of childish, really. He screamed when he saw me in the wedding dress. He screamed a lot that night.

Before I ended him I looked into his eyes and said "you're not going to cry are you?"

They found him dead, alone in that secure room. Mystery still shrouds his death.

I hoped ending the life of my tormenters would make me feel better.

It didn't.

_**Looks like Rosalie was destined to be a vampire, no matter what her human life had to offer.**_

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	12. Chapter 12

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**Thanks to Lily Moonlight, LordXeentheGreat, Moody Grouch and GothCatholic for your reviews!**_

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 12: Existence_

Carlisle invited me to join his family. There were five of them. Esme, Carlisle's wife, Edward who pretended to be Esme's brother, and Alice and Jasper; living as husband and wife. I gratefully accepted. I didn't want to be alone. I didn't know how to be alone.

And time went on.

The five of them helped me to control the ever-present thirst and introduced me to our "vegetarian" way of life. We are also eco-friendly, we never over-hunt in one area. We go where over-population endangers humans. After what had happened to me, I could not imagine taking the life of a human, well, except for those lives I had already taken.

I was content.

Edward was gorgeous, perhaps more than I. I did not like that. I had always been the most attractive person around; it was difficult for me to consider that a man would be more beautiful than I was. But we got along.

We never felt amorous about each other, we just didn't. We thought of each other as brother and sister. That's how we would introduce ourselves.

My family would stay in one place until we couldn't. Since our kind do not age, it is impossible to stay in any one place for too long. It raises too many questions. I took advantage of the time though. We had lots of it. We studied at every university. I was very fond of history so all my courses were historical in nature. Carlisle was already working as a physician. His ability to stave off his lust for human blood was truly inspiring. He had taught himself to ignore it and worked in smaller hospitals and ER's all over the country. He was amazing.

And so it went. Our strange little family, nomading our way across the United States. I desperately wanted children, but had accepted that it could never be. That took a very long time. But I knew that even if Royce hadn't killed me, I would have lost myself. I shuddered at the idea of raising a child in that environment. Would my eyes also be dead as I handed a box of real pearl earrings to the next King family victim?

While I will never be grateful for my violent end, my soul was saved - by the kindness of a vampire. A human might say that we vampires are without souls, but a person without one is a more hideous creature indeed.

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	13. Chapter 13

**What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?**

_**Thanks to Lily Moonlight, LordXeentheGreat, Moody Grouch and GothCatholic for your reviews!**_

_**This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.**_

_Chapter 13: Memory_

I was hunting when I heard it.

It was a fearful and pained screaming that was not unfamiliar to me.

I followed the sound, an odd urgency increasing my pace. I found a very large bear about to finish off a human male. There was something about the young man who lay on the ground, broken, bloody and dying. He was still breathing but his end was very near. He lay on his stomach and despite his life-threatening injuries, was still trying to crawl away from the assault of the hungry bear.

I could not let it happen. There was something so reminiscent about the boy. I searched my fading human memory … what was it? I distracted the bear and scooped up the boy. I knew Carlisle could save him as he had saved me. I did not kill the bear. Animals are instinctive; they do not kill for sport.

I ran with the injured boy. I was a long way from home. Occasionally his eyes would flutter and he would look at me – no, stare at me, incredulous. I wondered at the spirit he possessed, that he could muster any energy to _stare_. Of course, I knew I was beautiful, perhaps he saw it too.

I took the broken body to Carlisle. His compassion would save this life too. As he endured the changes, we asked his name.

"Emmett" he choked out, "my name is Emmett".

As he had for me, Carlisle sat with Emmett until the transformation was complete. I stayed too, anxious and pacing. I had grown very indifferent with this new life, so my reaction was mystifying. Why did I care so much? The tattered memory came to life in my mind. Little Henry - Emmett reminded me of Vera's Henry.

When the pain finally receded, the strength of his youth made it very difficult to restrain him from doing what his new body demanded. We weren't always successful. But he always came back and I couldn't stay away from him. As he thrashed against us all, I felt a stirring in me that I thought was dead. I now knew it was only dormant. Waiting. Waiting for someone to awaken it.

I had found my other half. Emmett was the love I had been searching for, both in my human life and my new life.

I was whole again.

The End.

_**Thank you for reading! Pretending to be a writer has been a blast. Thanks to Stephanie Meyer for creating such tangible characters and for letting me borrow them and play for awhile.**_

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